One Young Man Again in the Trenches
CHAPTER XII
ONE YOUNG MAN AGAIN IN THE TRENCHES
On his return from leave Sydney Baxter writes:
January 29th, 1916.
"I am writing this in a small estaminet which is much overcrowded, and in the conversation can only be described as a din. Madame is hurrying round with coffees and fried pommes de terre, whilst monsieur is anxiously trying to find out if we are moving to-morrow. He is much disturbed, no doubt thinking of the drop in the number of coffees après demain.
"I am keeping very fit and well, and much to my surprise have not experienced any of the 'fed-up-ness' I anticipated on my return from leave. To my mind, there is only one experience to equal a leave from Active Service—that is the final home-coming. My leave was pure delight from one end to the other."
Sydney Baxter's Division was soon again on trek to a new position. He writes:
"We had stayed in, and passed through, many villages, had even had a fire at one, burning down one or two barns, and yet life was uneventful. Marching most days, or, when billeted, doing platoon drill, playing cards, reading or writing in the cafés or our barns. Company concerts were no good. We had heard all of our soloists' répertoire, which was not very extensive. There came the day when we marched into Doullens. Strange were the sights of large shops and smartly dressed townsfolk—we were more used to the occupants of obscure villages. The Sergeant-Major came along with the message, 'Smarten up and keep step through the town.' We needed no bidding. A soldier doesn't want it, you know, when he becomes the object of admiration and the recipient of smiles from the brunettes of France. On past the Hôtel de Ville we swung—this was a G.H.Q., and 'Eyes left!' was given as platoons passed the guard. Staff officers, resplendent in red-tabbed coats and well-creased slacks, seemed to be showing the populace what fine soldiers they were, while the M.M. Police stood at the corners directing traffic as only the members of that unit can. Into the Rue d'Arras we turned, and outside an Ecole de Filles we halted. There was our billet, the best we ever had. In the playground stood our cooker. Upstairs we were packed into the classrooms, with just enough room allowed to stretch one's legs and to turn over should one wish. We had our stew, and quickly rushed off to see all the town. In the square a military band was playing 'Nights of Gladness,' and we found a crowd gathered round the bandstand, many of them civilians. We stayed and enjoyed the performance, and at the Marseillaise and our own National Anthem every khaki-clad man from private to general stood at attention, and the latter at the salute. It was a grand spectacle, and one felt proud to be a soldier. We went and had a look at the shops and into the church, until nearly 5 o'clock, when we debated amongst ourselves as to whether we should go back for tea or wait till 6 o'clock when the cafés open.
"Running into a group who had been endeavouring to break the camera, we asked them what they were going to do. 'Why, go to the Y.M.C.A., of course,' they replied. 'Is there really one here? What luck!' We all followed the guide. It was in a market hall, but liberally placarded with the familiar Red Triangle, and so there was no mistaking it. Like most other canteens of the Y.M. it had a long counter and about twelve small tables. The ever-refreshing cup of tea and the good old English slab cake were in plenty, and we asked for nothing better.... It was quite exciting to sit and have tea at a table. Afterwards there was a concert. The artists were A.S.C. men, and, although very markedly amateur, we enjoyed the evening, which was decidedly a change from our usual evening of cards. Unfortunately we marched away next day and so were unable to get full advantage from that depôt. It was one of the Y.M.'s smaller ventures and lacked many of the usual articles of comfort that their huts are renowned for. However, it served its purpose. Troops were able to procure English cigarettes and chocolates, and at the same time have a good tea and a jolly evening. A toast to the Y.M. should always be drunk in hot tea, for supplying it to us in France. It's one of the chief blessings the Association confers on the army."